


In the Middle of the Night

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 09:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	In the Middle of the Night

What the hell were you supposed to do when a four-year-old boy, who wasn’t your own child, asked you what the word fuck meant? 

If you were Spencer Reid, the answer was ‘not a goddamn clue.’

He was babysitting Henry. Henry said he heard mommy say a word and he didn’t know what it meant. “Why didn’t you ask mommy?” Spencer asked his nephew, attempting to buy time. He couldn’t tell his innocent little blonde-haired, blue-eyed nephew that fuck meant to have sex with; he was 4 for fucks sake. Oh god, how did parents do this? Improvise dammit, Improvise. 

“Mommy sounded angry when she said it. She also said it once when she was with daddy. It was the middle of the night. And you know everything so I wanna ask you,” he said innocently, climbing into his Uncle’s lap and sitting down. He was staring up intently and waiting for an answer. Oh god…fuck! He also made a mental note to tell JJ that her son had heard her having sex.

Spencer ran through every possibility in his mind. Everything in him wanted to tell the absolute truth, because what else was he supposed to do when asked a question. But Henry was 4, and not his own son. “Well, it’s a bad word,” Spencer started. He’d always known what to say. He always had an answer for a question. Never in his life had he made something up on the fly. It was a weird feeling and he didn’t like it. “Sometimes people say it when they are angry or frustrated and need to let out that feeling. They use curse words. That’s what that word is.”

When he finished and Henry looked away, seemingly contemplating this new factoid, Reid felt a calmness wash over him. He’d probably said the right thing. I’ll have to ask JJ. “What are the other words people say when they’re frustrated?” Henry asked. “Shit?”

Oh no. He knows the word. What do I do? “That is one,” Spencer said calmly, but we don’t say bad words. You’re too little for that.”

“But what if I’m fwustwated Uncle Spencer?” he asked. Here they were talking about cursing and Henry was saying “fwustwated.” God, I am fucked. “Like sometimes when I drop something, I get fwustwated, so can I say the bad words then?”

“No, little man,” Spencer replied calmly. JJ is never going to ask me to babysit again. “You’re too little.” Just as he was about to ask another question, Spencer started spouting to the first random facts that came into his mind. “Actually, the “f” word wasn’t used until the 1500’s according to the Oxford English Dictionary.” Oh crap. The words had left his head. He was screwed. The train was rolling away from the station and there was no way to stop it. “The word wasn’t used in English much in olden times, it was used by countries in Europe like Norway, where they said fukka and Sweden, where they said focka. Oh fuck,” he said out loud. 

Then he realized he’d said it and said it again. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fucking hell!” Slap your hand over your mouth you fucking idiot! Henry was giggling as he did; Spencer was in so much trouble.

“The “s” word means poopy doesn’t it?” Henry asked with a smile on his face.

Spencer blurted out yes before he could stop himself. “That word has a rich history behind it having been used to Germanic and Scandinavian languages. It originally meant the diarrhea in cattle.” Why am I saying this?!

“I like words,” Henry said. “They’re cool. And bad words are funny. Why does it matter if I’m little?” I am actually fucked. There’s no way I can talk my way out of this one. “Is ass a bad word too? Mommy said it once when she was pointing to her butt.”

Spencer heaved a sigh. He was just going to be in trouble. “Yes, Henry, that’s a bad word too. It’s actually another name for a donkey. An ass. There are also a couple of four letter “c” words that are not good to use. Hell isn’t a good word either. A lot of people say go to hell, but that’s not nice to say. Then there is also the word bitch, but that’s the name for a female dog. Just don’t call people names okay Henry? Don’t use these words against people because it’s not nice and can make people sad. You don’t want to make people sad right?”

“I won’t,” Henry said. “What are some cool bad words?” 

This was his opening – a way to deter the conversation to a place that Henry wouldn’t understand. “Actually I think the coolest curse words are actually words, they’re insults used by Shakespeare in a lot of his plays. For example, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, he said, “I shall live to knock thy brains out,” which basically just means that you really want to hit someone. You want to hit them so badly that you’d stay alive just to keep doing it.”

“That’s funny!” Henry said, cuddling himself into Spencer’s lap. “Tell me another Shakespeare insult.” He knew he should stop this conversation, but whenever Henry cuddled into him like that, he couldn’t help himself. He loved this kid more than he ever thought he could love anyone.

“Well, I like the ones that sound funny, like, ‘thou errant hell-hated clotpole, or you are a fishmonger.’ Those sound so funny to us, because we don’t talk like that anymore. Now we use things like the “f” word but we use it as a noun, and an adjective that has an –ing on the end, and a verb. It’s a very versatile word.” Ok, I really need to stop.

After telling Henry yet again that little boys and girls weren’t allowed to say bad words, he put him down and Henry ran back to his room. When JJ and Will came home an hour or so later, he said goodbye to his beloved nephew and told JJ he’d see her at work in a couple of days.

Flash forward to two days later. Spencer was near the coffee machine and JJ was stomping over to him, a fire in her eyes that made him feel like he was the child and he was about to get reprimanded. Oh no, Henry told her. I am so fucked. “Spence, do you mind telling me why my son thinks cursing is funny? He called me a clotpole this morning. What does that even mean?”

“It means idiot, but I did not tell him to call you that,” Spencer said. He was about to continue his explanation when JJ cut him off.

“Why were you talking with my 4 year old about cursing?”

“He asked me first!” Spencer exclaimed, as he nearly spilled coffee on himself. “He asked me about curse words. He knows them himself. I didn’t tell him any of the modern curse words; he knows them himself. I was trying to get him off topic so I started talking about Shakespeare insults because I didn’t know what else to do!” After a few seconds, during which time JJ was tapping her foot against the ground and trying to figure out if she was going to yell at him further. “Plus, no one is going to know what clotpole is.”

“That would be better,” she said. “This morning, while he was looking for his backpack for school, he screamed out ‘where’s my fucking backpack?’”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh causing the coffee to get stuck in and burn his throat. “You have to admit,” he said. “He used the word correctly. That’s pretty fucking impressive.”

Spencer dodged out of the way as JJ brought her hand down to smack him. “Spencer Walter Reid, I will fucking kill you.”

“He didn’t learn that word from me, just so you know,” Spencer laughed, pulling out his last card that might get him out of this. Blame JJ. “He told me you said it once when you were angry and he also heard you say when you were with “daddy” and “in the middle of the night,” so I think we both know what he heard.”

JJ slapped her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh, fuck!”

Spencer snorted and the coffee came out of his nose. “Yea, that’s probably what he heard.”


End file.
